


you've got mail

by hellsteeth



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Early Season 6, F/M, Sex at work, email flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:22:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29298099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellsteeth/pseuds/hellsteeth
Summary: From: f_mulder@fbi.govTo:d_scully@fbi.govSubject: Top Secret Information - URGENTWhat are you wearing? ;)
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 8
Kudos: 86





	you've got mail

From: f_mulder@fbi.gov

To:d_scully@fbi.gov

Subject: Top Secret Information - URGENT

_What are you wearing? ;)_

A sound caught somewhere between a laugh and a scoff leaves Scully's mouth when she opens her email inbox. An agent sitting at the desk diagonal from her casts a glance backward in concern and she quickly disguises the noise as a cough and takes a sip of her tea. At the desk in front of her, Mulder remains unperturbed, passively scrolling through the details of his latest background check while lounging in his chair.

Scully stares at the back of Mulder’s head for a minute, pondering her response. She considers ignoring the question altogether, or maybe dragging him out of the room by his collar to ask him what the hell he’s doing, but neither option feels quite right. She eventually settles for ripping a sheet of paper out of her notebook and balling it up. After quickly glancing around them and making sure all of the other bullpen agents are focused on their work, she tosses the ball of paper at Mulder. It bounces off the back of his neck and lands on the floor, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, and perhaps deliberately, Mulder drags his cursor over to the email tab on his computer screen and checks his inbox.

Scully sighs, a puff of air leaving her lips and disturbing the red locks that hang in front of her face. Her eyes land on the report she’s currently writing about the utter lack of suspicious terrorist activity at yet another farm in The Middle of Fucking Nowhere, USA and she makes her final decision. She can almost see Mulder’s ears perk up at the sound of her nails clacking away at her keyboard.

_You already know what I’m wearing. You saw me walk in this morning. Care to be more specific?_

The response lands in her inbox at lightning speed, a chime sounding from her computer. She turns the speaker volume all the way down and opens the email.

_Allow me to clarify. What color is your underwear?_

That’s more like it. Scully smirks, wondering how long she can tease Mulder before giving into his game.

_Tell me the color of yours first and then I’ll tell you mine. Gotta give a little to get something in return._

He’s a good sport, sending back his reply before answering his phone and quickly minimizing his inbox window.

_The pale green boxer-briefs that you practically yanked off me when we pulled over on our trip back from Kansas. You know the ones._

Indeed, Scully knows the exact pair that Mulder is talking about. She looks at him, slouched over his desk and mumbling into his phone. Her eyes trace down his spine and land at his ass as she recalls the event in question, the way she’d tugged the stubborn boxers down his thighs and climbed into his lap as soon as he’d found a secluded side street for them to use. The memory is powerful enough to make her smile and cause an insistent pulsation between her legs. He’d given her much more than she’d asked for in his brief answer, so she responds to Mulder with an answer that she knows will make his phone call much more interesting. It’s only fair.

_I’m wearing a pair of lavender panties with lace around the top and my black bra that opens in the front. I might have to change soon, though._ Scully takes a deep breath and steels herself before typing out the final sentence. _They’re getting a little wet._

After hitting send, she forces herself to work once again, halting only once when she hears Mulder’s voice catch in the middle of a sentence. Sure enough, when she glances up from her screen, her email is displayed across Mulder’s computer. His own screen reflects his grin as he nestles his phone between his ear and his shoulder to free his hands. Scully watches his forearms flex, thankful for the faulty air conditioning in this Hoover Building that had prompted Mulder to roll up his sleeves today. She feels a little warm herself, but she’s fairly sure that the room temperature has nothing to do with it.

Scully hadn’t been exaggerating in her last message. As she shifts her weight in her chair, the effect of Mulder’s little email stunt becomes apparent in the soaked seat of her panties and the pressure that builds from the friction as they slide against her folds. She bites back a moan, a wall of professionalism settling over her face at the horrifying thought of any of her coworkers noticing how worked up she is. Mulder seems to be distracted by something, and there’s only so far they can realistically take this game in the middle of a workday. Slowly, carefully, she crosses her legs and forces herself to focus.

Unfortunately, the next message from Mulder arrives moments later and completely derails her goal.

_I bet they are. You’re the lucky one, though. Can you imagine how hard - no pun intended - it is to hide myself under my desk? Even a phone call with Kersh didn’t help, and now I’m worried that I’m going to develop some kind of Kersh-related sexual complex._

Scully’s mouth falls open as humor and arousal fight each other to be her first reaction. Mulder gives her no time to think, to process the information, before a truly filthy message pops up in her inbox.

_Scully, do you have any idea how infuriating it is to sit right in front of you, knowing that you’re wet but unable to do anything about it? It’s impossible to focus on work, for one thing. Here’s what I really want to do. I want to crawl under your desk, take your panties off with my teeth and devour you. Actually, can that be my new job? If I can’t work on the x-files, can I at least take up permanent residence between your legs and make you come? Seems like a cause much worthier than this nonsense._

Another message follows almost instantly.

_I’m just now realizing that I implied that I’d rather work on the x-files than get you off. Ideally, I’d like to do both. I think we both know the benefits of that private office._

Scully looks from her computer screen to Mulder just in time to watch him subtly adjust himself under his desk. She reads the messages again. And then once more. Each sentence sends another jolt of lust through her core. Work is impossible through the fog of lust and frustration filling her mind. She’d type out a reply, but she may die from excessive sexual desire if this back and forth continues between them. It’s not a cause of death she’s ever witnessed, save for perhaps their run in with the Kindred. Maybe a medical journal would name the condition after her. It’s not the most preferable way to be remembered. 

On shaky legs, Scully rises from her seat. She freezes momentarily at the feeling of wetness that coats the inside of her thighs before click-clacking to Mulder’s side and clearing her throat.

“I think I’m going to take my lunch break now, Mulder. I’m hungry,” She forces a casual tone into her strained voice. Mulder looks up from his keyboard, lips parted in surprise. Scully looks him in the eye. “Are you hungry?”

He nods wordlessly.

“Okay then. I’ll meet you at my car in five minutes, alright?”

Another nod. Scully turns crisply and walks out of the bullpen and down the hallway that leads to the parking garage. Luckily, it’s as empty as it usually is during this time of day. A glance at her watch tells her that it’s nearly eleven, too early for a lunch break but perfect for remaining undetected.

As she climbs into the back seat of her car and kicks her heels off, Scully is dimly aware that she wouldn’t even _consider_ doing something like this under any other circumstance. Does Mulder have any idea how much he’s able to turn her on and wind her up with just his words? She intends to show him either way.

Right on time, Mulder knocks on the window across from Scully and climbs in next to her. He holds a briefcase strategically in front of his crotch, but deposits it in the front seat and reveals a hard-on straining against his nice creased trousers.

“I assume we’re not going out to eat?” He asks, a half-hearted attempt at a joke. Scully shakes her head and practically pounces, pushing him into a lying position and climbing atop him. She threads her fingers through his hair and kisses him, tongue seeking out something in his mouth that she knows she won’t find. The contact after so much flirting and teasing is a near sensory overload for them both. Mulder’s hands scramble for Scully’s skirt and push it up around her waist. He bucks his hips and they both gasp as his hard-on rubs against her wet panties.

Scully grinds down against him, but Mulder’s hands gently hold her hips still so he can pull her panties off. He holds them in his hand, grinning proudly.

“These are one of my favorite pairs of yours, Scully.”

“Mm. I know,” she takes them from his hand and tosses them over her shoulder. “Remind me, Mulder, what was it that you wanted to do?”

The sight of Mulder licking his lips is all the encouragement Scully needs to slide up Mulder’s chest and position herself over his face. She hovers above him for a moment, balancing herself and holding onto the door handle for support. Mulder, overcome at the sight of her glistening center, tugs Scully onto his face and begins to lap and lick at her in earnest.

Scully throws her head back, sighing at the revelation of his tongue on her. She snakes a hand up her body to palm at a breast over her shirt.

“Do you feel what you did to me back there, Mulder?” she asks, legs shaking. “You drove me absolutely crazy and there was nothing I could do about it,” she laughs. “Until now.”

Mulder hums thoughtfully and starts on a wonderful little figure-eight pattern with his tongue that pulls a cry from Scully’s lips. She can feel herself crumbling, teetering on the edge. It takes all of her willpower to lift herself off of Mulder’s eager mouth. He looks up at her with confusion, wetness dripping down his chin and cheeks.

“I want you to come with me,” she explains matter-of-factly despite the fact that her voice shakes from his hard work. “Your fly, open it. Now.”

Mulder complies immediately, unbuckling his belt and pulling his cock out of his pants in record time. Scully rocks backward and finds the head of it. She circles her hips a few times before sinking down onto him, savoring the feeling of being filled. Mulder groans and his head accidentally knocks against the door. Scully rides him the way she approaches everything else in life that drives her halfway insane: with a fiery determination that never ceases to propel her forward.

She can tell that Mulder is close. All the warning signs are there, including a flush that creeps up his neck and cheeks and a clever hand that connects with her clitoris to help her follow him down. 

It’s difficult to tell which one of them comes first, whether it was the fluttering of Scully’s core or the sudden gush of warmth inside her that initiated their mutual unraveling. Either way, Scully collapses on his chest as his cock softens inside her and cum leaks down onto the seat. She lets the post-orgasmic tide wash over her as Mulder kisses her cheek and brushes her hair away from the back of her neck so she can cool down.

They make an admirable attempt to clean themselves up before actually going to lunch at a little cafe down the street.

“I guess emails are good for something other than getting digitally chewed out by Kersh,” Mulder says as he swallows a bite of his BLT. “and I finally feel like I’ve accomplished something worthwhile during our new assignment.”

Scully nods and offers him a fry from her plate. “This has been the best day of work we’ve had in a while.”

Eventually, despite their fervent desires to do anything else, Mulder and Scully return to the bullpen. However, her lavender panties remain in the backseat of her car, a fact that runs through their minds and makes for a very eventful reunion that evening.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think :)
> 
> Also: I changed my tumblr url and can now be found @ dr-scuhlly


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